Forbidden Love
by Daughter of the Midnight Moon
Summary: Aragorn has always held strong feelings of affections for a certain Mirkwood prince, but hidden them out of fear of Legolas not returning them. But can love find a way? AL slash


Aragorn looked ahead unhappily. It was a hot, humid summer day – one of those ones where a faint haze of heat wafted up from the ground like a distant mirage on the horizon and all you wanted to do was find some cool shade to lie down in and sleep away the afternoon. It was hot. Too hot actually. It was late August and the heat was unbearable. What ever had possessed him to ride out from the cool sanctuary of the Hall of King's cold stone hallways back in Minas Tirith on a foreign relations trip to the distant land of Ithland was beyond his understanding. 

The kind of said foreign nation had expressed great interest in opening trade agreements with the rich and powerful country of Gondor. There was rumored to be vast amounts of iron ore hidden in the lands laying far to the south of Gondor. If those rumors were true than a trade agreement with Ithland was more than Aragorn could hope for. The iron ore bought from the distant nation would prove very useful in forging strong metal that was always in high demand to make the armor and swords that outfitted the soldiers of Gondor who defended their lands. 

And so under the title of King Elessar of Gondor, Aragorn had left for the distant country in the far south with hopes of forming an alliance of peace with the foreign kind and sealing an agreement that would bring prosperity to both lands. 

He had taken with him a small entourage of soldiers with him. When he had first taken his position as king of Gondor, the one time ranger had been more than a little unnerved by the constant presence of at least one guard, shadowing his every step and following him wherever he went. He had come to accept his men's presence with the reluctant understanding that it was all for his own safety and protection. After all, who else would lead the country should anything befall him? Well, Faramir would, as he was the Steward of Gondor, but that was beside the point... 

So here he was, several hundred miles from home in the blazing summer heat atop a sweating horse that only seemed to intensify the heat that already wrapped around him like a blanket. The sun beat mercilessly sun down on him from overhead. Sweat rolled down his neck and soaked his shirt. Wiping the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, Aragorn again cast his eyes ahead to scan the open grasslands spread out before them. They were within less than a day's ride of Methenlod, capital city of Ithland. Aragorn could only hope that in the city he might finally be able to find some relief from the unending summer sun beating down on his neck and back. 

As he was thinking of the shady protection of the palace he was sure to find and of the refreshing feast he and his men were to enjoy when they met the foreign king, Aragorn was brought out of his reverie as a bright glint of gold caught and momentarily blinded his eyes. Shifting his gaze to look ahead, he saw that it had come from the reflection off the golden tresses of the only blond member of his company. Aragorn could only feel a stir of longing grow in his heart as he beheld the fair owner of said radiant locks colored the frost covered shade of straw. 

It was Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil and elven ruler of Ithilien. 

The elf rode straight and tall atop his dusty grey mount, glowing hair practically shining in the golden sunlight of high noon. His fair and flawless skin only heightened his aura of beauty as his slender body moved in perfect rhythm to the moving horse beneath him. 

Aragorn could only suppress a sigh as he stared at the beautiful form of the elf riding several paces in front of him with his face only half visible from the angle the mortal king was at. In some part of his heart, he was beginning to doubt the reasons in judgement when he had asked his long time friend to accompany him on his journey. At first, Aragorn had told himself that he had only asked Legolas to come along so that he might put the elf's keen sight and hearing to use in the unknown and dangerous new lands they were to journey through. Legolas had readily agreed, saying he would be honored to accompany him and see the distant land of Ithland.

But there was more to Aragorn's request of his friend's company than he wished to admit. Much more. It was only that he did not wish to realize or recognize it. 

~You want him~ a distant voice in the back of his mind whispered tauntingly ~You wanted to take him far away from Minas Tirith where there would be no hindrances to keep you from fulfilling your deepest desires...~ 

'No,' Aragorn's conscious immediately retorted in defense, 'I only wanted Legolas along as a friendly companion and guide. No more. No less.'

~You lie. You want to claim that elf and make him yours. Look at him. Look at the way he moves, and then tell me you still do not want to feel him beneath you, crying out your name in ecstacy and pleasure...~

Aragorn's gaze again shifted to the lithe form riding in front of him, as if his eyes were being directed by some unseen and unstoppable power. 

In the heat, Legolas had removed his outer tunic of darker green that he was most often to be seen wearing, leaving only the thin material of his silver under-shirt to cover his upper body. Aragorn could see the elf's back and muscles moving beneath the fabric, swaying to the rhythm set by his horse. He could see every delicate movement of Legolas' sinewy body as he gracefully glided back and forth across the back of his mount. The elf trotted along bareback, not needing any use of a saddle or bridle to direct the dapple-grey stallion he rode. His golden hair swished back and forth across his back like a curtain of unimaginably soft silk. He was truly a vision of untouched beauty and wonder, and to Aragorn's dazzled eyes, the most beautiful creature to ever grace the face of the world.

Something between the man's legs immediately contracted as if in longing to feel the silky skin of the elf for itself. 

~You want him. You've wanted him from the very moment you first saw him at Lord Elrond's council all those years ago. Not even the fair maiden Arwen could completely take your mind away from the Mirkwood prince...~

His conscience gave no reply. Aragorn merely rode on in an awe-struck silence as he watched the graceful dip and sway of the blond haired elf's body. He could not deny that the voice the back of his mind had spoken some truth in what it had said. He had admired and longed for Legolas Greenleaf since he first saw the elf glide past him in a billowing grey robe of velvet all those years ago at the council of his foster-father Elrond. And his prolonged contact with the fair creature during their journey together as members of the Fellowship only proved to increase his desire for the elf until it felt like there was a hot coal being fanned in the pit of his heart.

Aragorn could only marvel at the simple yet fascinating way the elf's hips rocked back and forth to the gait of his horse, and subconsciously began to wonder what other rhythms Legolas' slender and agile hips could match. 

Suddenly, as if sensing the man's eyes upon his back, Legolas turned in his seat and stared over his shoulder to where Aragorn rode flanked on either side by an armored knight of Gondor. Aragorn immediately felt frozen in place by the elf's piercing blue eyes as he met the man's gaze. Some part of him immediately shrank back, fearing Legolas somehow knew what dirty thoughts he had just been thinking. Legolas' liquid blue eyes silently bored into his soul, but gave no hint as to his own emotions. His eyes were filled with some unreadable expression Aragorn could not fully place.

Just as Aragorn thought he could no longer endure the elf's unblinking stare on him without looking away in embarrassment and shame for his improper thoughts, Legolas swiftly broke eye contact and turned back around just as quickly as he had done to confront the man. 

Left to stare at Legolas' back and the swishing bounce of his long golden hair, Aragorn could only feel an empty hole forming in his heart. How badly he longed for that elf; how bad he yearned to hold him, to caress his silky soft skin, and murmur sweet words of adoration and worship into his delicately pointed elven ears.

But it could not be so. 

Though every particle of his being was bound in unrequented love to the graceful warrior prince of Mirkwood, Aragorn was already pledged and married to the daughter of Elrond, Arwen the Evenstar. It was not that he no longer cared for or loved Arwen – far from it! But a person can love many people at one time and in varying degrees and forms. It was just that while he loved Arwen, it was not the same fiery, soul-giving love he felt burning in his heart for Legolas. His love for Legolas was not one of shallow lust or carnal desire, but one of true, bottomless love where his soul felt ripped apart and completely whole all at the same time every time he was in the presence of the elf and even when he was not. 

But the detail of his existing marriage aside, there was also the minor fact to contend with that Legolas did not seem to reciprocate or hold even the tiniest inkling of romantic love for him like Aragorn had for the elf. 

'Why would he want me anyway?' Aragorn thought despondently. 'Legolas is immortal, and fair beyond comparison with even the most beautiful of humans. Why would such a beautiful and untouched creature such as he want to love a man as lowly and corse as I? I have no right to even dream of ever holding his affection or love...'

Filled with these thoughts of self-deprecation, the man suddenly began to regret his request of Legolas to join them. Though he wished nothing more to be within the mere presence of the blond haired elf, Aragorn knew his joy would only be bitter and filled with the pain of unfulfilled desires and longing. He would never have Legolas, this he suddenly knew. But why had it taken him so long to realize? Legolas would never want him for the foul and mortal being he was. 

He knew the elf held him dear to his heart as a close friend and companion. But nothing more. Nothing less. And it tore his heart to think it would always only be just so. 

Suddenly up from ahead, a shout startled the king from his quiet reverie. Trying to push back the bitterness seeping up from his sudden revelation of lost, but never gained love, Aragorn focused his attention on the path ahead, trying to ignore the golden haired form bobbing in and out of his peripheral sight. The call had been issued from one of his men sent to scout the path ahead. The man was quickly trotting towards them.

Reigning in their mounts, the company of soldiers and their king stopped as the scout neared and came to a halt before them. 

"My Lord," the scout bowed in his saddle, "The gates of Methenlod are within half an hour's ride. It seems one of the city's scouts has seen us and reported our approach. A royal escort is being issued from the city gated to meet us as we speak."

"That is good news," Aragorn said with forced steadiness of his voice, expertly hiding the emotional distress that had been consuming his mind only moments before. "Let us go and meet our hosts and bid them greetings. I am sure King Glinthul of Ithland will want to welcome us and settle us in. Come, let us not tarry. It is hot and I wish to rest before he begins to try and make trade agreements over dinner..." 

Many of his men took Aragorn's last few sentences as merely an unexcited note of all the long and boring meetings he expected to endure with the king of Ithland in the coming days. But as the company kicked their horses into a trot, only one seemed to pick up on the empty tone tainting the man's voice. In his haste to hurry to reach the city and drown his sorrows of unreachable love in endless politics and trade agreements, Aragorn failed to notice the twin pools of liquid blue staring after him from the only golden haired member of his company...

******

"My Lord Elessar!" King Glinthul exclaimed merrily as he stood from the elaborate throne on the far side of the hall and strode forward to meet the men entering his throne room. "I am glad to see you have made you way to Ithland safely. I hope the sun was not too much for our northern brethren to stand... How was your journey?"

Aragorn could not help but immediately like the ruler of the far southern country. Though older than himself, Aragorn could see an ageless humor sparkling in the man's dark brown eyes as he came to stand in front of him and his travel-dusted company of soldiers. 

"Our journey was long, but without trouble," Aragorn replied with a nod of his crowned head to show respect to the older king, "I will admit though beautiful and vast, the country of Ithland offers more sun than I am used to enduring." he added with a smile that was immediately returned by his southern counter-part. He was beginning to think that maybe long talks of trade agreements and negotiations were not going to be so bad with Glinthul as they had been with other rulers he had had the un-pleasure of doing business with. 

"Ah, yes. Yes. I am sure that to you the sun shines much hotter down here in the south than in the north..." Glinthul waved off dismissingly with a joking smile. "I am sure you and your men would like to rest before tonight's welcoming feast. Am I correct?"

"Yes. We would greatly accept such generous hospitality," Aragorn bowed gratefully to the other king. 

As the older man shifted his eyes from Aragorn and for the first time scanned the group of men that accompanied Aragorn standing at attention behind their liege, Glinthul's eyes were immediately drawn to the radiant spot of gold standing quietly behind the helms and armor of the small escort of White Guards. Even for the farther removed, rustic people of Ithland, it did not take much knowledge or intellect to deduce who the mysterious figure in the back of Aragorn's entourage of men was. 

"I do say, Elessar!" Glinthul exclaimed in astonishment, "I did not think that even a man as powerful as you would be in the company of one of the Firstborn!" 

Momentarily confused by the man's outburst, Aragorn followed the other king's gaze to where Legolas was standing in the back of his men. Ever since he had been a small babe, Aragorn had been in the presence of elves and thought little of their presence as being such a surprise any more, even one such as captivating and beautiful as the one that accompanied him.

"My apologies, Lord Glinthul," Aragorn said as he waved a hand to signal his friend to step forward, "This is Legolas Greenleaf, youngest son of King Thranduil of the northern elven realm of Mirkwood. He is a close friend and companion of mine."

~But you wish he were more...~ the small voice in the back of his head piped up as if on cue. 

Aragorn tried to pretend he had not heard the little voice of carnal desire or felt the sharp pang of longing return to his heart as the fair elven creature stepped forward and came up beside them. 

"My Lord," Legolas bowed politely in greetings, "It is an honor to be able to see and visit your fair country."

"As well as it is an honor for me to finally meet an elf," Glinthul laughed as he bowed back with a nod of his head to the trained elven prince of Mirkwood. 

Aragorn could not help but feel a hot surge of jealously flash through him as he saw the look of complete wonder and awe shining in the southern king's dark brown eyes as he gazed upon Legolas' flawless pale face. He could not help but feel that Glinthul had no right to look at Legolas in such a way, that only he had the right to do admire the beauty of the elf... 

But then Aragorn suddenly remembered that Legolas was not his to hoard away like a precious gem, that the elf was not his to hold...

As if sensing the sudden crest fall of his foreign guest, Glinthul reluctantly looked away from the radiant beauty of the elf before him. "Pardon the delay," he coughed, slightly embarrassed by the sudden realization that he had been staring a little longer than what proper manners would have dictated, "It is just that elves are rarely seen this far in the south... Anyway, I do I believe I was about to offer you and your men rest and some refreshments before tonight's feast."

Aragorn merely nodded his head in agreement. 

"Good then. I will have one of my servants show your men to their rooms. I will have some food and fresh water brought up to you so that you might bathe to refresh yourselves from your travels."

"Many thanks," Aragorn again bowed humbly. While the offer of a bath and food sounded wonderful to him right then, the man could not have wanted more than to actually escape the presence of the blond haired elf. The fairy-tale like sight of Legolas' golden hair gleaming in the afternoon sunlight that spilt into the room through the surrounding windows only drove a stake of pure and utter pain through the man's heart. The lust and desire for the fair elf was too much for the man to bear while in Legolas' presence any more. 

Turning to leave the throne room, eager to be alone with his despair and loneliness, Aragorn was startled when the other king suddenly called after him and his men. "Lord Elessar, before you rest in your room, would you like a tour of the palace?"

It was an innocent question and one born out of the general concern that the visiting dignitary should know the layout of the place he was about to live in for the next several weeks of negotiations.

With Aragorn's back turned to him, Glinthul missed the fleeting expression of utter dismay on Aragorn's face. He wanted more than anything to retreat to the private of his room, but Aragorn knew it would look bad and leave a bad impression on the king if he was to refuse his offer. 

Forcing an unfelt smile onto his face, Aragorn pivoted on his heels and said as blithely as he could, "An excellent idea! I was just about to ask for a tour of your palace. I am most interested in the architecture of the building." These were all a lies, but ones Aragorn felt were justified in giving to convince his host that he truly held interest in the country he was trying to make an alliance with. Good politics led to swift and fruitful alliances, Aragorn always said. 

"Very well," Glinthul smiled broadly, totally ignorant to the truth behind Aragorn's words, "I will not keep you long, Elessar, I promise. Your men may leave and retire to their rooms. Later after everything is ready, I will have a servant come around to announce the start of the feast."

Aragorn again forced a wan smile onto his lips. Casting his men a jealous look as they slowly followed one of Glinthul's men out of the room, Aragorn was again captivated by the sleek elven grace of Legolas as he turned to follow the others, obviously not invited to attend the tour as Aragorn had been. He could not help but let his eyes wander one final time over the thin body of the elf before Legolas finally slipped too far into the darkened hallway for him to follow with his eyes.

"Well, Elessar," Glinthul proclaimed in his merry voice, "Shall we start in the gardens and work our way inward?" 

"Yes. Yes, that sounds like a fine idea," Aragorn muttered half-heartedly as he tore his eyes away from the sight of the elf fading like a shadow into the hallway. 

But as the man turned to follow the king in his tour of Ithland's palace, Aragorn again failed to catch the fleeting glance of piercing blue that followed after him with their ancient depths.

*******

Aragorn walked down the hall briskly, half angry and the other half of him bitter. His "short tour" of Glinthul's palace had lasted nearly three hours! It seemed the older king liked to talk much more than listen. Glinthul also seemed to be something of a amateur historian, and had given what seemed like the entire life history of every single stone in his palace's walls and every possible factual tidbit about his country to Aragorn. 

It was only by sheer luck that halfway through the northern wing of the palace where most of the artifacts of Ithland's ancient nobility were stored, did Aragorn finally get a chance to escape from the talkative king. It had been a messenger than had saved him. Somewhere in the midst of Glinthul's historical narration of some ancient battle that had taken place sometime during the Second Age, a young man came running up to the king, saying there were matters his counselors needed to speak with him of immediately. Aragorn was only too happy to let the southern king attend to his country's affairs. 

But that beside, the feast was to begin in less than an hour, at best! And Aragorn had not even gotten the chance to change out of his traveling clothes, let alone properly bathe and wash away the less than pleasant odors of his long journey through the wilderness all the while enduring the heat of an unfriendly summer sun. He was going to have to hurry if he wanted to make it to the feast on time. But as he thought of this, the bitter half of his countenance flared up. 

He was going to have to see Legolas at the feast that night. 

After spending several hours with the king of Ithland and seeing how he had stared at Legolas before, Aragorn was sure Glithul had been quite taken with the charming northern wood elf. He had a sinking suspicion the king was going to want Legolas to sit somewhere near the head of the table with them so that he might better talk with the rare and beautiful creature visiting his country.

Aragorn was not sure he was prepared to be so close to Legolas just yet. His heart was still an aching mess of confused and jumbled emotions. He did not know if he was capable of enduring the presence of his unreachable love so close to his side just yet. 

So close, yet so far away. Just out of his reach. 

Sighing, Aragorn finally reached the door of the room the young servant boy Glithul had had escort Aragorn to his room had said was his. He had not wanted any more company than what he had already endured, and the moment he had been beyond Glinthul's eyesight or hearing he had asked for directions to his guest chamber rather than being shown, and had then promptly dismissed the servant. 

Twisting the knob and forcing it open, Aragorn was met with a large sun filled room. Huge picture windows lined the entire far and right sides of the room. A large four-poster bed stood against the left hand side of the room, complete with a billowing red canopy roof pulled across the tops of its posts. Stepping into the large cavernous room of crystal and gold, Aragorn suddenly had the pang of wishing for a simpler room, like one of the ones he had spent his nights in when he had been a mere ranger roaming the northern lands, sleeping under the stars or in humble tavern inns unless otherwise provided for. The gaudy glitter of royalty life was quickly beginning to lose its gleam. Somehow through all the riches and power, Aragorn could not truly admit he was happy with life. Something was missing.

~The glitter and gleam of gold you are missing is not one of metal, but rather one of living flesh and blood...~ piped the tiny, annoying voice in the back of his head. 

Shaking his head to rid himself of his subconscious' running commentary, Aragorn tried to distract his mind with necessary actions. He still needed to clean himself and make himself somewhat presentable before the start of the feast. Looking to the right side of the room, he saw that his baggage had been already brought up to his room. (Probably sometime during Glithul's rambling speech about the construction of the far western garden wall of the palace several hours before, he thought with a bitter frown) 

Striding over to his bags and small traveling trunks, Aragorn stooped to open the first chest. But before he could even fit the key of the trunk's lock into its hole, a soft, purring voice startled him. 

"It is about time you returned..."

Leaping to his feet and turning quickly on his heels with all the speed and agility still left over from his ranger days of old, Aragorn snapped around to the face the bed where the voice had been issued. 

But who he saw was no intruder he had ever anticipated. 

There, stretched out demurely on his back across the pale cream colored silk coverlet of the king size bed and looking straight at Aragorn with his sapphire blue eyes lay Legolas Greenleaf. 

Aragorn stared, trying to recover from his initial shock at the elf's sudden appearance in his own private room. "Legolas! What are you doing in here..." but the man's voice faltered and died away in his throat as he came to the striking realization of what was so wrong with this picture. 

Not only was Legolas laying on his bed, but the elf was clad in nothing but the soft luminous glow of his skin. 

Aragorn came to the sudden realization of why he had not noticed the elf when he had first come in. Legolas' fair and naked skin blended in almost seamlessly to the light cream-colored blanket draped across his bed. The only thing that stood out in sharp contrast to the bed's sea of pale cloth was Legolas' swirling blue eyes and his sun-golden hair fanned out beneath his head on the mattress. 

The elf lay stretched out width wise across the thick mattress, his one foot dangling off the edge playfully. His other the leg – the one closest to Aragorn– was pulled up so that his bent knee and thigh tauntingly blocked the man's view of his bared pelvis and groin. Legolas' arms lay stretched up lazily over his head almost over the other side of the bed. The sinewy muscles of his chest pulled along his ribs and chest in the most delightful manner. 

His brilliant blue irises and his erotic pose across the bed captivated Aragorn in a stunned silence of awe and disbelief. 

"I was wondering when you were going to return from your tour..." Legolas finally broke the tense silence between them in the softest voice the king of Gondor thought he had ever heard. The elf's honey laced syllables danced between the man's ears as Aragorn struggled with his mind to decide whether or not the achingly beautiful creature he saw sprawled out before him was really there or just a figment of his imagination.

"Legolas..." Aragorn tried to speak coherently, but fumbled badly as all intelligent cohesion of words left his mind of the swift wings of birds. 

Legolas smiled coyly at the befumbled man. "I became too hot while waiting for you to return, and then finally just decided that clothing would only be too much of a hindrance anyway..."

Shaking his head as if trying to rattle his thoughts into focus, the man stuttered in shock, "But...What...What are you doing here?"

"Is it not obvious?" the elf practically cooed, staring at him with his soul-piercing blue eyes. His body shifted ever so slightly over the bed as if in hungry anticipation for something. "I've come to give myself to you..." 

The elf's words struck something deep within Aragorn's frozen mind and he was suddenly able to think again outside the captivating beauty of the creature that lay out before him. A storm of thoughts ran through his mind. 'He came to give himself to me? But why? Why would he want my love now of all times?'

As if reading the confusion on the man's face, Legolas said in his soft, lacy undertone, "I have always longed for and wanted you, Aragorn – from the very first time I met you all those years ago... I saw you and it was like a fire had been lit in my soul. I wanted you with every part of my being and more. I wanted you so badly that at times I thought I would go mad if I could not have you..." 

Something changed in the elf's demeanor and he became quieter and more serious. One of Legolas' arms dropped down to rest on his flat, muscled stomach. Cocking his head to the side to better look at Aragorn but without rising off the bed, Legolas continued on in a low voice of suppressed anguish, "But I knew I could never have you. Even when I first laid eyes on you and wished to call you mine, I knew you could never wish to give yourself to me. What would a man like you, with such a proud and noble heritage and destiny want with me when he had the love of the fair and beautiful Evenstar? What comparison could my love be to you that hers could not? I knew you would only scoff my affections if I ever told you of them, so I hid them, and waited in hope that someday, perhaps, I could somehow gain your love. I thought my dreams would never come true until I saw you looking at me earlier today, with the same yearning and pain that my own heart carries for you..." 

Legolas paused, letting his confession hang in the room like a thin misty rain in early spring. Biting on his lower lip nervously he asked in a low, almost frightened voice, "Tell me, Aragorn. Tell me that I have not been wrong in my hopes. Tell me I have not seen something that was not there, and made them to be what I wanted them to be..." For a fleeting moment, the shine of true fear danced in his sapphire eyes as he waited breathlessly for Aragorn to answer, silently begging for reassurance and response.

A numbed sensation froze Aragorn's mind. All he could do was stare at the naked elf before him. This surely could not be happening... It was like a dream. And yet, here Legolas lay freely giving him his body. 

Not trusting his tongue to form the coherent words needed to tell the elf everything he wanted to say, Aragorn felt like he was floating on air as his feet suddenly began to move beneath him, as though he was carried by an invisible force. He slowly rounded the right side of the bed and looked down at the prostrate elf. Aragorn could only stare in total awe at the sumptuous nude body stretched out before him. He carefully stepped up beside the bed, and held the elf's soft, questioning gaze for several long seconds of endless eternity. 

He slowly reached out a shaking hand and let the tips of his first two fingers gently graze the knee of Legolas' bent leg. His fingers slowly traced a short line up Legolas' soft, milky white inner thigh. A warm shiver of hot desire spread through Aragorn's lower body as he saw how the elf's silky soft skin quivered appreciatingly under his touch. A soft cry of pleasure escaped the blond archer's lips as he rolled his head to the side and moaned lightly into the silk coverlet of the bed. 

Aragorn's fingers slowly swept back towards the tip of Legolas' knee. The man watched in rapt fascination as Legolas' strong inner thigh muscles tensed and contracted under his tickling touch like woven cords of steel encased in a twitching shell of pure silk. 

Reluctantly pulling his hand away from the elf's leg, Aragorn looked back up into the deep azure depths of Legolas' eyes. Complete understanding shined in them. In that single, gentle touch a volume of words had been silently spoken. With that touch, both suddenly knew how much the other had suffered wishing and hoping for the return of a love they had been too afraid to show to each other until now. 

Not saying a word, the man leaned down over the prone form spread out before him like a treasure of lace and silk. He skillfully caught the elf's upturned mouth in a crushing kiss of overflowing passion and devotion. 

Legolas immediately returned the exchange as he freely parted his lips and allowed the man entry, letting Aragorn's tongue caress and lick hungrily at his own as if his mouth held the very essence of life itself. One of Aragorn's hand snaked into the flowing rivulets of golden blond hair fanned out beneath his lover's head. Legolas' own immediately reached up to grasp a handful of Aragorn's thick curly tresses, and pulled the man down lower over his naked body.

Aragorn's mouth soon broke away from Legolas', intent on claiming other lands of flesh as his own. The elf moaned in distress but was immediately silenced as Aragorn's mouth slowly traveled down the length of his lover's slender neck, pecking soft kisses along his throat. Legolas moaned softly as Aragorn shifted from off him and trailed a pearly string of kisses down over his body. The man's mouth soon passed the rise and dip of the elf's collarbone and moved lower still in skillful slowness to the darkened nubs of raised flesh standing equally spaced and distanced on either side of Legolas' chest. 

Toying with the left and then moving his ministrations to the right, Aragorn could feel the elf begin to squirm beneath him in mounting pleasure. Wave after wave of warm tingles shot through Legolas' brain and involuntarily sent the elven prince's eyes slamming shut. Aragorn's tongue flicked and toyed with the twin peaks for several long moments, occasionally nipping at one of his lover's taunt nipples with a delicate pinch of his teeth. Legolas' murmured moan of pleasure filled the air. Grinning around the small mound of perked flesh in his mouth, Aragorn abandoned his torment of the squirming elf. 

A soft cry of dismay went up as Legolas felt the warm, slippery feel of Aragorn's tongue leave his body. His eyes flew open and snapped down to look just as Aragorn's head of dark curly tresses was disappearing over the dip of his pelvic bone. He felt more than saw his lover kneel on the ground beside the bed between his legs. A tense moment of anticipation filled the elf before he finally felt the man's tongue again come in contact with his skin. 

Legolas' back arched over the mattress of the bed as he felt Aragorn's lips place a series of soft kisses along his inner thighs. His torment swiftly changed as the man's tongue worked lower and came to the prize laying in wait between the elf's twitching legs. The elf moaned loudly as he felt his lover's tongue brush against the satiny undersides of the velvety sacks hanging down on either side of his growing erection. 

Physically unable to let his arms lie useless at his sides any longer, Legolas hands flew up over his hand and clawed at the silk coverlet of the bed. The cloth quickly worked its way into a clenchable ball of fabric which Legolas readily began to wring between his fingers, lost in the waves of ecstacy that crashed over him. Aragorn's tongue ran up the length of his hardening member, as if he was licking at a piece of candy. Legolas' mouth flew open, silently mouthing Aragorn's name in mute encouragement and praise of the man's skill. 

Momentarily pausing from his careful ministrations, Aragorn sighted up the length of his prostrate lover writhing in blissful pleasure. Strengthened by Legolas subdued moans, Aragorn again dipped down between the elf's legs to fully claim his waiting prize.

Legolas' whole member was throbbing, practically begging to be released of the building pressure. Aragorn was only too happy to assist. Leaning down low, the man opened hungrily and in one fluid movement took all of Legolas into his mouth, nearly to the hilt. 

The elf's body went rigid as he felt himself being taken by Aragorn. All his buzzing mind could comprehend was the warm, wet place that now enveloped his whole member in a world of sense-robbing pleasure. A strangled cry escaped the elf's lips as the retired ranger came to the tip of him, sucking and pulling at the stiffening length of flesh in his mouth. Legolas' back again arched over the bed as Aragorn began to to repeat his movements, only now adding the element of rolling his tongue down over the flesh as he pulled his mouth upwards over his lover's throbbing member.

"Aragorn!" Legolas cried out piteously as the man reclaimed the length of flesh back in his mouth once more and repeated the process in agonizingly slow strokes, his tongue working its magic. Panting hard, the elf struggled to encourage the man to move faster, to not delay him the ultimate release with his tauntingly slow licks and pulls any longer. His slender hips bucked upwards, trying to bury himself deeper into the sweet enclosure of his lover's mouth. A slick sheen of sweat began to glisten over his lithe body. "Please..." he begged between gasps of pleasure, "Please, Aragorn...Faster"

Receiving no hastening of his torture, Legolas' left leg twitched spastically. His hips again bucked upwards into the warm sticky cavern holding him captive, struggling to find release.

Sensing his lover's growing agitation to the pace he had set out with, Aragorn snaked his right arm up under Legolas' leg and stilled it by pulling the silky smooth skin of elf's inner thigh up against his working cheek and pinning it there beside his face as he continued on in the rhythm he had originally set. Legolas' captured leg draped over his shoulder and hung down his back like a limp rucksack. He could feel the elf tense and begin to quiver under the teasing licks of his tongue and suck of his lips. Crying out stubbornly, Legolas' other leg kicked frantically against the bed sheet, demanding more haste. But that one was also stilled with a firm hand pinning the knee down flat against the mattress. 

Legolas could feel his breaking point approaching with the speed of a loosed arrow. He could feel his body tensing in anticipation for the final stroke of the man's tongue that would send him spiraling off the edge into sweet oblivion. 

But Aragorn was going so maddingly slow... 

Finding no sooner release to his torture of ecstasy, the elf violently wrung the silk coverlet between his fingers until he thought for sure it was mere seconds away from being ripped in two. But before his struggles could escalate to such measures, a sudden rapping at the door paused Aragorn't tongue mid stroke. Legolas almost cried out in dismay when he felt the man stop his ministrations, but was quickly hushed as the ranger abandoned him from his mouth and crawled up onto the bed atop him. Pressing his two forefingers to the elf's lips, Aragorn calmly motioned for Legolas to keep silent.

"My Lord Elessar," came a tentative voice from the other side of the closed door of the room, "My king has sent me to tell you that the feast is ready to be underway..."

Removing his fingers from Legolas' blood-flushed lips, Aragorn called out in a loud, strong voice of royal curtness, "Thank you. I will be down shortly." 

Legolas' eyes immediately widened in fear at the man's words. "Nay..." he practically whined in protest, staring hard into Aragorn's steel-grey eyes. "Don't leave me, please," he begged softly, gently pulling Aragorn's face down close to his. A hint of threatening devastation tainted his fair and melodious voice. Panic swirled in his sea-blue eyes. 

The man could not help but smile at the elf's desperateness to keep him there with him. It was more than anything he could have ever hoped for. "Fear not, my love," he whispered reassuringly into the elf's delicately pointed ear, "I am not going to leave you."

"But the feast..."

"It can wait. All I care about is you," he breathed in a husky tone of surging desire. He slowly planted a new trail of kisses down the side of the elf's slender neck. Legolas slowly began to realize the man truly had no intentions of leaving him and settled back down beneath his lover's weight. "I have waited too long and hoped too vainly for you to now turn you aside so easily," he said between each delicate drop of his head to peck at the elf's softly glowing skin of translucent light. "You are all that matters to me now..."

Legolas seemed to relish these words and dropped back to the mattress as Aragorn's weight shifted off him. Pulling at the bottom of his tunic, the man quickly retched it up over his head, revealing his taunt and firm chest muscles beneath. Throwing the shirt to the floor carelessly, his hands groped to hurriedly undo the fastenings of his belt. 

Since Legolas was already de-robed of any offensive articles of clothing, the elf merely laid back and watched in carefree amusement as his lover struggled to rid himself of his clothes. He would have probably liked to have assisted Aragorn, but for now the blond archer was content to only watch. In an awkward sort of strip show, the human's well tanned flesh slowly began to bear itself more and more to Legolas' watching eyes. Legolas' eyes wandered down low to the darkened junction where the man's legs joined at the pelvis as Aragorn managed to finally kick his pants free from his body. 

"You have been well endowed," Legolas commented softly, raking his eyes hungrily across the man's groin. 

"But not as well as you, my love," he replied in a low predatorial growl. Aragorn's lips curled up into a roguish smile that seemed to only hint at what dark and sinful plans he had for his "endowment." 

Finally stripping himself free of his last article of clothing, Aragorn carefully settled himself back over his waiting lover. Both man and elf could immediately feel the jolt of electricity jump between them as their naked skin came into connect. It was like a bolt of lightening had shot through them and bound their souls together in that very instant. Lowering himself down atop the elf's slender body, Aragorn immediately marveled at how perfect Legolas' body seemed to fit against his, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found its mate. 

Face to face and barely inches apart, the two could only gaze awe-struck into each other's eyes, staring into each other's soul like looking glasses. Complete love and adoration shined in both pairs of captivated eyes. And for a moment, both Legolas and Aragorn felt that if they could keep this connection, they would never have to words again, but only look into each other's souls to understand all that needed to be said. 

But such a bond could not be kept in contact for all eternity and Legolas understood this. Breaking his gaze with Aragorn, the elf craned his head up and caught the man's mouth in his own. Legolas closed his eyes and let his hungry tongue lick over the honey-sweet lips of his lover, savoring the taste of the king. 

Aragorn reciprocated by bringing one hand up to caress the side of Legolas' cheek with the backs of his forefingers as he and his lover's tongues rolled and fought for dominance. The man's free hand ran up and down the elf's side coaxingly. A subdued moan of pleasure escaped from around Legolas' locked lips as Aragorn tickled and teased his fingers across his sweat-slicked ribs. 

Their passion steadily mounted. The two soon began to savagely claw at each other, desperate to feel the other closer to their already pressed bodies. The momentary interruption seemed to have only intensified each other's need for the other. 

Legolas shifted beneath his lover, moving his hips up to cradle Aragorn's manhood between his legs. His arms snaked up and wrapped around the ranger's broad shoulders and pulled him lower. 

He wanted more. He was not longer content with only the man's kisses and mouth. He wanted to feel Aragorn in him, claiming him as his own. 

Legolas' hips bucked upwards, and ground against Aragorn's groin impatiently. A sharp gasp escaped the man and he broke their kiss. A smile graced his tanned face as he felt the elf pleadingly press up against him. 

"Patience, my love, patience," he whispered seductively into Legolas' delicately pointed ears.

"No..." the blond archer whimpered in stubborn protest, "I want to feel you now. Take me now."

If it hadn't been for the desperate note of pleading tainting the undertone of Legolas' voice, Aragorn might have prolonged his playful torment of the elf. But it felt too cruel of thing to do. As he looked down into the liquid blue depths of the fair and beautiful creature beneath him, he realized he wanted Legolas just as much as he wanted him. The intense yearning between his loins was becoming too much to ignore. 

Aragorn nestled himself down lower between Legolas' legs. As the elf felt his lover's hardening member brush up between him, Legolas wantonly spread his legs further apart to allow the man access to both of their desires. Reaching up over his head, Legolas gripped a handful of the silk coverlet of the bed, preparing to receive the forceful thrust he anticipated Aragorn would use to claim him with. He closed his eyes and waited for penetration. 

But instead of feeling himself impelled by a powerful battering ram of flesh, Legolas felt the man's soft lips graze his own in a tender kiss. From beyond the darkness of his closed eyelids, he heard Aragorn whisper close to his ear, "Patience, my love. For you will be screaming my name much sooner than you think..." 

With that, the tip of Aragorn's sex slowly slipped inside the elf's body. Legolas immediately tensed and squirmed, crying out sharply as his body stretched uncomfortably to the size of his lover's shaft. Aragorn paused and did not press in any farther. He waited patiently for the elf's initial discomfort to pass. Finally after a few moments, Legolas lay quit and still, panting heatedly beneath him. 

Legolas moaned urgently, becoming again impatient and wanting more, yearning for gratification.

Dipping his head down, Aragorn sucked at the base of Legolas' neck, eliciting himself a low purr of approval from the elf. And then, with one long thrust that took him all the way to the hilt, Aragorn claimed his lover completely. 

The elf gasped in surprise. His head snapped back onto the mattress as his body writhed with ecstacy. His left leg instinctively shot up and wrapped around the man's waist. 

Enveloped in his own world of pleasure, Aragorn buried his face in the crook of Legolas' shoulder and moaned into the thick coverlet beneath. It felt like he had slipped into the warm, all encompassing embrace of a warm bath. His spine tingled with the numbed sensation of his person being completely enclosed in the warmth of Legolas' soft velvety passage. 

Starting slow, Aragorn withdrew to the tip then thrust forward again, setting a strong but steady pace. Legolas rocked his hips to the man's rhythm perfectly. Aragorn had to bite his bottom lip to keep back the strangled cry of pleasure building in his throat as he thrust again and again into the elf, each time with more intensity and power than the last. The blond archer's body began to tremble as Aragorn continued to hit the same spot of carnal pleasure deep inside him over and over again. 

Limbs intertwined and body pressed together in a crushing embrace as if they clung to each other for dear life, the two continued their dance of love. A melody of moan and cries of sinful delight rose and began to fill the air. 

Finding his pace becoming too slow for the throbbing pleasure of his flesh anymore, Aragorn stabbed forward with unforseen power and strength. He had to steady the elf's hips with his hand as he began to beat to a faster rhythm. He could feel Legolas' nails digging into his shoulder, no doubt breaking skin and leaving shallow half-moon shapes of red. But the pain seemed distant and only added to the maelstrom of swirling sensations numbing his senses in an euphoria of sexual pleasure. 

Legolas writhed helplessly beneath him. He relished the way the elf's velvety walls clenched around him needfully as he drove himself deeper and deeper with every bone-jarring thrust. His hips ground mercilessly into the elf, crushing Legolas' one leg flat against the mattress at an odd angle. 

"Ai! Aragorn... please...Ai!..." the elf cried loudly, untangling one of his arms from around the man's broad shoulder and grabbing a handful of the cream silk cover above his head. "Ah!" he gasped as the man struck home once more, "... Aragorn ...please."

Upon hearing Legolas' pleading voice, Aragorn forced himself to resurface from out of his swirling sea of bliss to look down at lover's face. 

Legolas head was turned to the side, staring out into the empty room. His brilliant blue irises shimmered with an unnatural light from behind the half-closed slits of his eyes. His sweat lathered chest heaved with irregular gasps and moans. But while this sent shivers down Aragorn's spine at the sheer beauty of his bed-racked lover, the man did not fail to miss the pained looking grimace twisted across the fair creature's face. For one sickening moment, the man's heart stopped dead in his chest with the sudden and revolting belief that he was inflicting pain, and that Legolas' cries were ones of pain, begging for Aragorn to stop.

Aragorn immediately froze, unconsciously stopping with his shaft still buried deep between his lover's legs. Legolas' eyes flew all the way open in surprise at the man's sudden stop and looked up with an expression of total confusion. His hand dropped the handful of cloth wrapped in his fingers at the sight of the anguish swimming in the man's eyes and reached up uncertainly to caress the ranger's cheek. "What is wrong?" he asked, bewildered. The sudden feeling that something was wrong sent the elf's heart racing. 

"I am sorry, Legolas," Aragorn whispered, "I...I did not mean to hurt you." 

Realization dawned. "Nay..." Legolas whispered in soft reassurance. He reached up and cupped both of Aragorn's cheeks with his hands tenderly. "You are not hurting me, love. There is nothing you could do right now that could bring me more pleasure..." Pulling the man's face down over his own, Legolas let his lips speak all the reassurance he could give. Breaking away, he ordered seductively, "Now finish what you have started..." 

Doubt still lingered in the man's mind. Despite Legolas' reassurance, he still could not help think that he had somehow been putting his love through unnecessary pain. 

Growing impatient with the ranger's hesitation, the elf rolled his hips up aggressively against Aragorn, earning himself a low groan of pleasure from the king. Reaching down he firmly clasped the man's buttock in his hand. Aragorn looked down at his lover in momentary confusion. The elf only smiled back coyly as he squeezed Aragorn's butt cheek and pulled him forward, pushing the man deeper within him. Kneading his hips in small circles around Aragorn's buried sex and pumping the man's bottom back and forth at the same time, Legolas pulled Aragorn into this new rhythm. 

Legolas' head rolled back against the mattress and moaned deeply as his hips undulated and rolled agilely around his partner's shaft. 

Aragorn's own cry of ecstacy rang out as he felt the elf's slick walls squeeze down around him. Forgetting his trepidations, he retook control and pumped his hips on his own accord, though Legolas' hand remained clenched around his rump and continued to guide him straight and true down into his love-slicked passage. 

"Aragorn...Ai!...please...Ah! Faster...Ai!" Legolas panted, punctuating his plaintive cries with an exclamation of utter bliss each time Aragorn hit home against the sensitive spot of sexual pleasure hidden deep inside him. His leg wrapped tighter around the man's moving waist, trying to pull him closer. His other twitched uncontrollably, pinned down uselessly against the bed by the position of his lover laying atop him. "Please...please..._Ai!_"

Driven half-mad by the elf's wild cries of ecstacy, Aragorn pistoned harder, slamming his weight up through Legolas' slender body. Using one hand to keep himself propped up on the bed over the writhing form beneath him, Aragorn snaked his other down between his and Legolas' slippery bodies. 

Legolas cried out loudly as he felt the man's hand wrap around his still un-gratified member. Jerking on the still stiffened length of pulsating flesh, Aragorn felt the elf convulse blindly up against him. He milked at the blond archer skillfully, pumping to the rhythm of his moving hips. With hardly any exceptional effort, Legolas was quickly brought to height, throbbing and quivering in the wake of the deft ministrations of the ranger's strong hand. The elf's entire groin soon throbbed with the intense heat of sexual fire. His sapphire eyes rolled into the back of his head as wave after wave of undescribable pleasure crashed over him. 

Aragorn could feel himself reaching his breaking point. Legolas' walls tightened around him like a velvety womb of safety and warmth. His eyes fluttered then slammed shut. Massaging the swollen mass clenched in his hand, Aragorn brought Legolas to within seconds of climax.

He wanted them to reach perfect nirvana together, as one singular being forged in the union of two souls bound together by the pure and unbreakable bonds of love. 

With one final thrust of his hips and caress of his hand, Aragorn and Legolas were brought over the threshold of ultimate bliss and swallowed by the misty haze of complete satisfaction and fulfillment. Their twin cries of utter pain and pleasure slowly died in their throats and faded away into the still air like the lingering notes of ethereal music. 

As Aragorn drooped down, totally spent, over Legolas' sweat-drenched form, he laid formal claim to the elf as his own in a series of hot, streaming spurts of fluid. Legolas' own mark of property lay smeared between their pressed bodies, coating his lover's hand and both their stomachs in a thin film of milky fluid. 

Unable to support his exhausted body over the elven prince any longer, Aragorn collapsed down atop the slender form. Had it been anyone else he had just made love to, the man would have probably rolled off to the side, afraid of crushing his partner under his weight. But he held no such fear with Legolas. He knew the elf could easily support his weight on him. He was stronger than what his slender form gave him credit for. 

Panting heavily in spent fiery exertion, the man and elf lay motionless, tangled together in an intertwined mass of arms and legs, basking in the warm after-glow of their love making. 

Regaining enough strength to lift his head, Aragorn mouth slowly nibbled up along Legolas' jaw line until he finally found the sweet reward of the elf's partially opened mouth. He tenderly kissed the blond archer. "I love you," he whispered into Legolas' ear. Nothing more than those three simple words seemed better capable of articulating the burning emotion filling his entire being and soul. He gazed into the elf's brilliant blue eyes. 

"As I you," Legolas answered in a low purr, "And nothing in this world will ever change that. Nothing will ever separate you from me again..."

Aragorn could hardly hold back the tears that wanted to spill from his eyes. Legolas loved him. In all his long years of fanciful dreamings of this day, he had never thought that that tiny admission of affection could hold such profound meaning to him. He was almost afraid it was still a dream, a fantasy that he would wake from at any second to find his life still empty and without meaning. But no. It was not a dream. Legolas loved him. He _loved _him. The single thought buzzed through his brain, filling him with the most complete sense of satisfaction and joy he thought he had ever or would ever feel again. 

Unsheathing himself from the still vibrating passage of his lover, Aragorn rolled from off the elf's slender body. Pulling Legolas up with him, the man fell back against the soft pillows of the bed. He leaned back against the headboard and drew the elf to him. Legolas submissively let himself be moved and positioned as Aragorn cradled his slender body up against his broad and muscular chest. Legolas moaned contently as he wrapped his arms around Aragorn's torso and tucked his head under the man's beard-stubbled chin like a sleepy child. His legs draped lazily across the ranger's outstretched body like a blanket of living silk.

Hugging the elf to him, the man kissed the top of Legolas' head tenderly. A soft, natural smell – like that of the forest after a spring rain– wafted up to Aragorn's nose from the elf, lulling him into a peaceful state of mind. "You smell good," he commented softly, closing his eyes and letting the scent fill his nose like an exotic perfume.

"That is more than I can say for you..." Legolas murmured playfully against Aragorn's sweat soaked chest. The elven prince' words seemed distant and slightly slurred, as if he was slowly beginning to slip away into the warm embrace of sleep. 

The man only smiled, letting the elf's baited taunt go unbitten. Unwinding his left arm from around Legolas, Aragorn slowly ran his hand through the elf's slightly disheveled mane of think blond hair like a comb, appreciating each strand's silky softness as it glided between his fingers and fell back against Legolas' sinewy back in a flowing cascade of gold. Freeing his hand from the downy locks, he tenderly tucked several stray strands of blond hair behind the point of his lover's ear. His hand then moved down to let the tips of his fingers run up and down the length of Legolas' spine in gentle caress. A murmured sigh of content vibrated against his chest. 

"What are you thinking?" Aragorn heard Legolas ask dreamily.

Aragorn's hand continued to stroke the elf's back in long luxurious passes. Resting his cheek against the top of Legolas' head, he whispered, "I am thinking how for the first time in my entire life, I am truly happy..." He felt the prince smile against the soft underside of his neck, and immediately knew he had spoken aloud the same thoughts of the elf's own mind.

For several long moments of contented silence, the two just laid there, naked but clothed in the warm embrace of his lover's arms. But as the bright sunlight of the summer day began to wan and dim with the lengthening shadows of evening outside, Legolas' peace of mind was troubled by a sudden thought. 

"What do we do now?" he asked quietly. He dipped his head out from under Aragorn's chin and pulled away from his lover's arms to sit on his knees on the bed and properly look Aragorn in the eyes. 

"What do you mean, my love?" 

The elf's sapphire eyes shimmered like twin diamonds in the dying light that filtered in through the far windows of the room. "What of Arwen?" he said in a tight voice, "Your love is already bound to her in marriage and in pledge..."

Aragorn's eyes softened with bitter memory. "Yes. I am still bound by marriage to Arwen..." he stated quietly, as if trying to calmly convince his mind that what he said was true. 

A shadow of anguish passed over the elf's face. 

It was as he had feared. Though he had finally found his one true love and given himself away completely in both body and soul to this mortal man he loved, he could never truly call Aragorn his. And for one fleeting moment, Legolas almost wished he had never confessed his love to the man, for it had gained him nothing but only more loneliness and grief in the end than if he had just lived the rest of his immortal life with the belief that Aragorn had never shared his emotions of love. A tear single of bitter hopelessness streaked down the elf's porcelain cheek. 

Seeing the elf's distraught pain, Aragorn reached gently brushed away the tear stain from Legolas' cheek with the back of his fingers. "Do not cry," he said, "For though the tie of marriage exists, it does not bind me..." Legolas' eyes slowly rose to meet his lover's, rekindled hope silently swimming in his azure depths.

Caressing the elf's cheek with the back of his hand, Aragorn said softly, "My love is mine to give to whom I wish. My pledge to Arwen was out of desperateness to fill the empty void in my heart which you already held, and so it was also the same for our marriage. I hold her dear to my heart, but I do not love her as I love you. She will never compare to you, Legolas. You are who I bind my soul and undying love to..." 

Unbidden tears of joy stung Legolas' eyes. With Aragorn's words, all of Legolas' fears and doubts had disappeared. His lower lip quivered with a smile of restored hope and purpose. "And I bind my soul and undying love to you..." the blond archer whispered softly as if in answer to Aragorn's pledge of devotion and love.

Legolas and Aragorn stared silently into each other's eyes, letting the quiet of the deepening night fill the air. No words needed to be said to fill the void, for their unbroken gaze spoke volumes of meaning that words alone could have never hoped to fully convey or express. They did not have to convince each other of his love, for they saw it shining there each other's eyes – the divine window to the soul. 

As if consumed by the same intense desire to taste the sweet essence of his lover's lips again, the two leaned into each other at the same time and met with a deep and fiery kiss of passion. As their lips encased each other's mouth hungrily, Aragorn gently pulled the elf back down into his arms and hugged him to his chest. Legolas fell into his arms without protest and settled back with his body closely pressed up against the man.

Their lips slowly parted and their eyes met again. 

With a small smile of absolute content gracing his face, Legolas rested his head against his lover's broad shoulder and draped an arm and a leg over Aragorn's body almost possessively. Aragorn's arms snaked around the slender form of the elven prince, a smile of contentment also etched across his face. The ranger's hand again took up the rhythm of gently stroking along the length of the archer's bare back, as if he were petting a cat from the tips of its ears to the tip of its tail. Legolas sighed appreciatingly. 

"Will things always be like this?" Legolas murmured quietly against the man's chest as he nestled his head under Aragorn's chin and listened to the steady beat of the heart beneath his ear.

"This perfect and wonderful, you mean?" he asked softly, "Yes. Yes, I think it will. Because nothing will ever separate you from me again. We are bound together by love and devotion, and nothing will ever break that bond..." he said with steadfast belief. 

But a tiny gnawing concern still haunted Legolas. "But do you think the others will accept our love for each other? Will they understand?" he asked softly, "Will they accept us?"

Aragorn remained quiet for a moment of thoughtful silence. "I cannot say for sure. But when that time comes, we will rise to meet it head-on. I will never hide my love for you again, and nothing anyone says will ever make me. You are a part of me that can never be taken away, no matter how much they might not understand or accept it. For I love you, and that is the only thing that matters to me anymore..." Aragorn's arms tightened around Legolas and hugged him closer, as if daring anyone to try and test his claim of never being separated from the elf again, whether in body or in spirit. 

That was all Legolas needed to know. His body instantly melted in the man's embrace as he relaxed completely with the knowledge that nothing in the world could ever make Aragorn break his word; for he was a noble man who would never make a promise he could not keep. All the worries and cares that had been plaguing his troubled mind seemed to fade away in that very moment, as if they had been sown to the four winds. And for the first time in ages, his mind felt clear and at total peace with the world. 

"Do you still wish to attend the feast?" Legolas whispered sleepily over the soft heartbeat of the man in his ears, "King Glinthul has probably by now noticed your absence and is wondering where you are..."

"Let him wait a little longer. I just want to stay here with you like this a little longer. It will not matter if we are a little bit late," he said into the waves of golden hair tickling his nose, "I am too happy here to move just yet..." 

"Then stay," Legolas suggested indulgently as he snuggled up against him persuasively. 

And to Aragorn, this seemed like a good idea. 

Smiling, he let his mind wander as the elf's sweet, earthen smell filled his nose and consumed him with a sense of undescribable satisfaction and content. As they lay there intertwined in each other's arms, he could feel Legolas' breathing slow against his chest as the prince slowly began to slip away into the sweet and peaceful realm of elven sleep. 

As he felt the elf drift off in his arms, the man ran his hand over the elf's thick mane of silky blond tresses. He gently stroked Legolas' head, careful not to disturb his lover's tranquil sleep. 

'I will wake Legolas in a few minutes, and then we will go down to feast together... I must make an appearance there or it may look bad with Glinthul. And I'm sure Legolas must be hungry..." 

But as his hand ran through the curtain of pure silk, Aragorn could feel the strenuous effects of their earlier love making quickly catching up to him. He suddenly felt tired. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head felt so comfortable resting there against the pillow of Legolas' head. 

All thoughts of feasts or political appearances soon faded from any of Aragorn's immediate concerns. He felt so at peace – at home – laying there wrapped in Legolas' warm embrace with the elf cuddled up against him. 

Though he valiantly fought off the gentle and seductive call to sleep, Aragorn felt his resolve slowly breaking. His eyelids began to droop low. A hazy mist seemed to surround him as the waking world began to fade away into the ethereal realm of dreams. 

'I will only rest my eyes for a few minutes... That's all. Then I'll wake Legolas and we'll go down to the feast together..." 

But for every battle or contest of wills he had ever fought in and triumphed over, the retired ranger and king could not win this fight. And just before he joined his lover in the blissful embrace of sleep and untroubled dreams, Aragorn realized that for the first time in his entire life he finally was truly happy... 

Fin. 


End file.
